


Sparring

by Settiai



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Complicated Relationships, Critmas Exchange, Critmas Exchange Treat, Friendship, Gen, One Shot, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 03:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22009279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Settiai/pseuds/Settiai
Summary: The moment Beau told him she wanted to spar, Molly should have turned and run. It would have been easier that way.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32
Collections: Critmas Exchange 2019





	Sparring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingfromthevoid (astrifer0us)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrifer0us/gifts).



"Spar with me."

Molly glanced up from where he was mending his coat and raised an eyebrow. "Why exactly would I want to do that?" he asked skeptically.

Beau scowled at him. "Because you depend on your damn weapons too much," she said. "Come on. You need some practice."

He just shook his head, scowling right back at her. "I prefer living."

Above him, Beau went still, and Molly immediately regretted his phrasing as he let his mostly-feigned scowl fade away. It had been weeks since the incident with Lorenzo, when a well-timed distraction from Caleb had managed to keep the slaver from making what should have been a killing blow. It hadn't bought them much time, of course, but it had been long enough for Beau to drag his unconscious ass away and dump a healing potion down his throat.

It had been too close. For all of them.

And, of course, Beau, Caleb, and Nott had been babying him ever since. Oh, it had gotten better once they'd picked up their new tall firbolg friend and rescued the others, but the point still stood. The three of them had been acting like he was made of glass ever since he'd woken up with an aching chest and the taste of blood in his mouth.

He should have expected this.

Molly let out a theatrical sigh and carefully laid his half-mended coat out on top of his bedroll so that it wouldn't get dirty. "If you wanted to beat me up that much, you should have just asked."

Beau snorted in amusement, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I thought that I just did."

"Touché," Molly replied. Then he paused, frowning slightly at the unfamiliar word that had just slipped out easily from his mouth. He wasn't entirely certain what language it was or what it meant, but Beau didn't seem surprised or confused by it, so that probably meant he'd used it correctly.

Huh. Yet another mystery for him to try his best to forget about and not solve.

"Are you coming?" Beau asked impatiently, giving him a quick look before suddenly setting off for the edge of their camp.

Molly sighed. "If only," he muttered, careful not to let Beau overhear him. He could tell she was in a mood, and it would be much easier to just give in and get it over with.

His eyes darted back towards Fjord who, sadly, seemed to have finished mending his shirt and was pulling it back on. Oh, well. He'd been enjoying the show, but he supposed that Beau's timing could have been worse. She could have distracted him when Fjord had first stripped down to his bare chest instead of doing it so close to the end.

"Get your purple ass over here!"

Molly rolled his eyes before heading towards the clearing just outside the camp where Beau was standing impatiently, clearing waiting for him. As soon as he was close to her, he gave her an overly exaggerated bow. "Sorry," he said. "If I'd known you were so interested in my ass, I would have moved a little faster."

Beau shot him a thoroughly unimpressed look, and Molly just _knew_ he was going to pay for that one. Then, without a word, she punched him in the face.

He jerked backwards, his hand flying up to rub his suddenly aching jaw. "Ouch!" he yelled, glaring at her. "What in the Hells was that?"

"A warning," Beau shot back. "Most opponents aren't going to fight fair. Don't give them a in."

Molly narrowed his eyes. "Well, if you'd—"

This time her fist caught him right in the nose. It didn't break, but it was more luck than anything. He moved just a fraction to the left as her hand flew at his face, enough to keep anything from shattering but not enough to prevent it from hurting like fire.

"What the fuck are you—"

Molly was a lot of things, including an idiot at times, but he wasn't a complete one. This time, when he saw the tiny hint of movement in Beau's shoulder that meant she was about to throw a punch, he ducked.

Which would have been very useful if she'd been aiming at his face. Since she was apparently aiming at his chest, all it did was put his head at a convenient punching height.

He hit the ground with a thud, trying his very best to remember that Beau was a companion and that yelling at her in Infernal until her ears started to bleed probably wasn't the brightest idea. Even though they technically had two clerics now who could heal her if he did.

No matter how much he _really_ wanted to do it.

"Are you even trying?" Beau hissed down at him.

Molly glared up at her. "Fuck you," he shot back. "You really are trying to kill me, aren't you?"

Beau narrowed her eyes. "I'm trying to keep you from fucking dying on us, you fucking prick," she snapped at him, not even trying to keep her voice down any longer. "You know what, fuck you. Just, fuck you, Molly."

Without even a backwards glance, she turned and stormed off in the direction of the river that they were camped near.

Molly blinked. Then, just to be on the safe side, he blinked again. "What just happened?" he asked the world at large before reaching up to tentatively touch his nose. There was blood streaming from it, mixing with the blood trickling from his busted lip as it got lower down on his face, but he didn't think anything was actually broken. Except maybe his pride. And his ability to understand what the fuck was going on.

He pushed himself to his feet and glanced back at the camp. The rest of the Nein were pointedly not looking in his direction in a way that made it very clear that they'd all been watching the show eagerly until a moment or two earlier and were now doing their best to pretend they hadn't been blatantly eavesdropping.

Wonderful.

"Maybe it would have been better if I _had_ died," Molly muttered under his breath, although he was careful not to say it loud enough for any of the others to overhear him. It's not like he actually meant it, after all. He was just frustrated and sore and bleeding and really, really, really fucking confused.

With a sigh, he started towards the river himself. If nothing else, he needed to clean up before he went back to trying to mend his coat. The last thing he wanted was to get any more blood on it. There were enough stains on it as there was.

He was the one who'd almost died. He didn't get why everyone else was acting so odd because of it. If he wasn't concerned, why were they? It didn't make any sense.

Molly rolled his eyes as he reached the river, kneeling down to splash some water on his face to clean up the worst of the blood. It wasn't that he was completely against the idea of sparring with Beau, at least in principle. Honestly, she'd made a good point or two in between the punches.

Of course, that didn't change the fact that she'd punched him repeatedly in the first place.

He splashed some more water on his face, letting out a relieved sigh when it finally started coming away clear instead of reddish. Then he pushed himself to his feet and got ready to head back.

Which was, of course, when he heard it.

Molly narrowed his eyes and glanced in the direction of the noise he was hearing. It sounded almost like... well, he knew what it sounded like, but he refused to believe that was a possibility. Now that the thought had planted itself in his mind, though, it wasn't going anywhere until he verified it.

With a sigh, he slipped forward, trying his best to stay behind the cover of trees.

It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. It was only a minute or two later when he saw Beau in the distance, hunched under one of the larger trees in the area with her legs pulled up to her chest. Her face was facing downwards, and he couldn't see it properly, but there was no mistaking the way that her shoulders were shaking for anything but crying.

Molly immediately turned around and headed in the other direction as quietly as he could manage. The last thing either of them needed was to have to acknowledge that he'd just seen _that_. He'd go back to camp, pretend that he hadn't seen or heard a thing, and that would be the end of it.

At least for a day or two, until he asked her to spar with him again. If it meant that much, well, he supposed he could give it a try. Even if it was going to hurt something fierce.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter. (https://twitter.com/settiai)


End file.
